


Homecoming

by MagalaBee



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Epilogue, Family Feels, Family reunion emotions after the war b/c their shared epilogue as siblings made me really emo, Post-Canon, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-War, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagalaBee/pseuds/MagalaBee
Summary: Jeritza had not stood as one man, one mind, for many years. He had avoided seeing his sister and mother for as long as possible, and while he yearned to wrap his arms around them, a part of him was still afraid of facing them.With such dark shadows and so much blood on his hands, would he ever really be whole?
Relationships: Jeritza von Hrym & Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This was a piece I wrote for the Guardian: FE 3H Family Zine! It was so wonderful to write for the Lamine siblings and their reunited family. Seriously, the epilogue Jeritza and Mercedes share really made me tear up. Their family has been through so much, being able to finally find peace is what they all deserve.
> 
> As always, Kudos and Comments are appreciated to help me see what you readers enjoy!

Jeritza’s shadow stretched long, casting a slash of darkness over the old, snow-covered stones behind him. It almost met with the thin, bare branches of trees’ shadows, which looked like spindly, sinister fingers trying to pull him back down the arduous path he had already taken. His pack felt abnormally heavy on his shoulder, and he had the sudden thought to run.

The orphanage was in an old manor house that had been refurbished. The stone walls looked several hundred years old, but the roof was new and the shutters on the windows had been freshly painted. From the back, Jeritza could hear some of the children laughing and shouting. It was the pleasant din of joy.

He considered turning back. Escaping into the shadows of the Faerghus forest, when two foundlings came running around from the yard, to the front of the orphanage. A little girl in braids hurled a snowball at a freckled boy and they both laughed until they saw him standing there, on the edge of shadows.

Jeritza stared at them, and they stared back, a moment of silence stretching out before they both scampered in through the large doors, shouting—“Miss Mercie! Miss Mercie!”

Jeritza’s hands clenched at his sides and he adjusted the pack on his shoulder, preparing to run. Panic coursed through his blood, and he turned, letting the branches claw at his long shadow.

“Emile?”

Her voice was as gentle as it had ever been, and once again, he was frozen in place, trapped between the shadows of the wood and the family behind him. Jeritza gulped.

“Emile…” she was closer now, he could hear her boots crunching in the small layer of snow on as she caught up to him. Before he could move, Mercedes’s hand touched his arm, bidding him to turn around. “Is it really you? Are you back? I’ve kept all of your letters—“

Slowly, he turned around to face her. Their same grey-blue eyes met, though both of them had aged since the war. Mercedes’s smile was framed by faint lines, and he could see the beginnings of crow’s feet in the corner of her eyes as she looked up at him. Her hair was the same, but peppered with faint grey.

His had only just grown back to its usual length. They had cut it while he was in prison.

“Mercedes…” Jeritza breathed her name. “I…”

Her hands took his, bidding the balled fists to release, and she held his hands with a tight squeeze. “Shhhh, it’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself, Emile. I know.”

His pack didn’t feel so heavy anymore, and the ghost of a smile came over him. He hadn’t known where else to go after he was released. He had given up the Bartels name, and Hrymn had never actually been his home. He was a man with too many names and too much reputation, even after he had answered for his crimes. The Empire had been lenient in his punishment, which was his only blessing.

“Your orphanage is lovely,” he remarked. Mercedes had written about buying the land at the edge of a village and fixing up the old house, but it was hard to imagine it on paper. In person, it seemed like a quaint place full of smiles. Very appropriate for his sister.

“It’s  _ our _ orphanage, really,” Mercedes chuckles, squeezing his hands again. “Mine and mother’s, at least. The Martriz Family Home is what we like to call it.”

Naturally, Mercedes must see all of her foundlings as family.

“I’m sorry if I scared those two,” he offered. “I didn’t mean to, I was just… having trouble knocking.”

Her smile softened. “I know. Are you well? It’s a long way to get here from Adrestia territory. You didn’t walk the whole way, did you?”

“I did, but I’m fine. It was nice to clear my head,” he assured her. “And… it is my head, now. I don’t feel myself slipping into…  _ him _ any longer.”

Mercedes gave a small sigh of relief. His struggle of balance with the Death Knight had been wrought in too much blood and too much hostility. But Jeritza had done the work to come to terms with himself. With both sides of himself. He no longer felt like two halves of one person, but rather an integrated whole. It was perhaps the only reason he could see her at all. He no longer feared that he might lash out.

“Emile… I’m so proud of you,” Mercedes said, tears brimming in her eyes. “I feel like I must be dreaming, you’re finally here… May I hug you?”

“Yes,” he agreed, letting go of her hands, and no sooner did Mercedes wrap her arms around his middle tightly. Her head only came to his shoulder, but that made it easier for him to hug her back, wrapping himself around her shoulders and ducking his head to lean against her own.

For a moment that stretched on for minutes, they just stayed there. Holding each other and letting themselves believe that this was real. That after all this time, they could finally be a family again.

Jeritza didn’t realize he had started crying until he straightened his back and found his cheeks wet, the cold Faerghus wind making them sting against his cheeks. He laughed a bit as he caught his breath. Mercedes pulled back and she was crying too, her eyes full and bright through her tears.

“Emile… do you want to see Mother?” Mercedes offered quietly.

For a long moment, his mind was completely silent. He hadn’t seen their mother since he was only eight years old, begging her to leave him behind with his father so that she and Mercedes wouldn’t be killed. It had been several lifetimes ago, and yet he could still remember the sound of her voice whenever she said his name.

The man he had become was nothing like the son she had loved. He was scarred and jaded and repentant. No longer soft and meek and singing in her lap.

“Do you really think she wants to see me?” he asked, terrified of the answer.

“Of course she does,” Mercedes whispered. “She has wanted nothing else for the past thirty years.”

Jeritza gulped but he nodded and let his sister squeeze his hand as she led him towards the manor house. He tapped the snow from his boots as they went inside.

“Mama! Mama, there’s someone you need to meet—“ she called.

Jeritza took—no. Not Jeritza anymore.  _ Emile _ . Emile took a deep breath and followed Mercedes into the kitchen.


End file.
